Tales from the Imperium
by Maddog3060
Summary: A collection of short stories of the Imperial Guard. Some minor coarse language, depictions of violence and war. Each chapter a story. More to come later.
1. Tables Turned

Darkness was falling, and this both exited and worried Shas'o Kral V'nedro, leader of the T'au force striking at an Imperial war depot. _It excites me in that we have the advantage at night with out armor's sensors over that of the non-augmented humans we fight_, the alien mulled as he walked in the midst of a small raiding group of twelve Fire Warriors, six hunters in Stealth Suits, and two of his own Shas'vre bodyguards who, like himself, wore potent powered armor that amplified their strengths and corrected their weaknesses.

_I worry, however_, the war leader thought as he and his team moved silently through the narrow canyon that would flank the Imperial positions. _We have not encountered this Imperial Guard regiment before, and who can say what surprises they might have in store for us?_ Despite his reservations, though, V'nedro kept himself and his team moving forward through the deepening darkness and the slowly diminishing ravine. _This canyon will empty out onto some plains, soon, and we must be prepared to fight the Humans, for there is where their depot lies_, the Shas'o reminded himself. _We must do this carefully, but we can succeed. All the VX25s and my Shas'vre and I have to do is jump up to the tops of the cliff walls that surround the dry crater and cover the fire team as they get into position. Then we mow down the defenders at the main gate who should even now be engaged by the second half of my force._ Almost as if on cue, the booming sounds of Battle Cannons sounded in the distance, and the alien smirked inside his helmet. _Good. The full Kroot cohort and Hammerhead I brought with should keep the Imperials busy and distracted long enough for us to flank them. Everything is proceeding according to plan._

Thus, the Tau force moved on and spread out as the canyon widened as it got closer to the objective. Forged by the torrential flooding rains that came periodically to this otherwise dry desert, the gash in the earth was more like a large wash than anything, though the fact that the rains fell on the mountains and not on the plain it cut through itself meant that the sides never wore away fully, hence the fact it was a canyon. It was therefore a perfect means of infiltrating the enemy base.

_A little _too_ perfect_, V'nedro thought worriedly. _The enemy would be idiots to not know about this channel, and completely foolish to not to defend it if they do know. If I were leading the defense of this facility, I would ensure that this and all places be watched by remote sensors and scout troops for skirmishing. But, by the Ethereals, these humans have nothing, not even the minefields they love so much_. This latter feature was most puzzling to the Shas'o, as the dismounted Pathfinder squad that was sweeping two hundred meters ahead of the raiding force kept finding nothing at all.

_Perhaps fortune has smiled on us tonight_, V'nedro thought, hoping against experience that the Imperium's command structure had made a terrible mistake in assigning a completely green unit to defend this outpost. _Still, we move carefully, sticking to the plan; caution is rewarded with victory._

Thus the team marched, until they finally reached an area where the canyon briefly widened out into a fairly large and flat expanse, jut before it narrowed and angled down to cut through the walls of the ages-old impact crater that held the Imperial base. With quiet hand signals, V'nedro sent his soldiers to spread out in a light skirmishing line, fire warriors taking the center, with the stealth team on the left and his two bodyguards on the right. Once they were settled, the Shas'o slowly moved out into the open, trusting in his suit's Iridium armor to protect him from any ambush that would be light enough to escape notice until this moment. Once a fair distance out, V'nedro turned on his suit's comm. system and send out a single phrase. "The Light has come," he said, letting the radio transmit them.

Soon enough, it was answered. "We see nothing but the truth of the Light," came the reply, and V'nedro relaxed just slightly as the proper counterphrase came over the comms, and then one by one, a third of the Pathfinder team sent ahead rose from cover and signaled that the area was clear. At this, the Shas'o waved his strike team forward, and soon the two groups met in the middle of the widened area.

"Report," V'nedro commanded of the seniormost Pathfinder there, noting that the man was the second of the squad's Shas'ui.

"Sir, Shas'ui Tar'ka is with the rest of our squad at the launch off point," the Pathfinder replied. "Nothing is out of the ordinary, and the diversion proceeds well. However, Tar'ka said for me to tell you that these new humans have a very good defensive mindset; the diversionary force will not hold out much longer before they either break and run, or are shredded."

"Then let us move out," the Shas'o said, and then turned to wave his strike team forward. His hand raised and he was about to give the order when a sudden noise could be heard coming over those from the nearby diversionary skirmish.

"It's a Chimera," one of the stealth suited Tau said. "I know the noise of it's engine; it sounds like it's coming from up on the cliff tops."

"The enemy must have spotted us somehow," V'nedro said quickly. "We have some time before they can deploy, and the Chimera cannot scale walls. Let us move quickly," he said, and then started off in a jog, waving for his warriors to follow along. They formed up behind him, and soon the entire body of troops was moving forward together as a unit, racing for the far exit through the cliffs. It was their biggest, and most fatal mistake.

V'nedro noticed it first, that the noise of the Chimera didn't seem to diminish one bit to indicate it was either slowing down to deploy it's troops or turning off to find a way down. Instead, the noise continued to grow until, finally, an oblong shaped burst over the six-meter canyon walls just ahead of the Tau soldiers. It's direction was what mattered most, however, as the large vehicle fell in an arc that lead it straight towards the warriors of the Greater Good, and it moved so quickly that none had time to even recognize the threat before the machine, soaring over V'nedro's head, slammed into the ground, crushing half the fire warriors and two stealth troopers under its weight and velocity, their bodies making a sickening, liquidy crunching noise. The force of the vehicle impacting shook the ground, and despite the suit and his best efforts, V'nedro found himself falling over, joining several of his soldiers as they too succumbed to the sheer power of the impact only scant meters away.

Time seemed to come to a standstill then, as everyone seemed to take a moment to wallow in the shock of the moment. Soon enough, though, the surviving Tau warriors began to pick themselves off the ground, and V'nedro managed to bring himself up as well, and he called out the first order that came to mind: "Regroup!"

Faithfully, his soldiers turned and started to move towards their leader, but even as they did, the turret on the Chimera defied expectations as it swung around and began to fire its multi-laser. Beams of coherent light swept over the surviving Stealth suits, and two of them fell before the onslaught.

This sudden and unexpected attack caught the Tau off-guard, and thus they were unprepared as the rear ramp on the Chimera sprung open and out flooded eleven humans, all armored and screaming their war cry as they fired their weapons. More beams of light, recognizable from the way they created false images of beam trails, reached out and slammed into the last of the fire warriors. Each Tau warrior had at least two guns aimed at him, and there was little the Shas'o could do as his men were gunned down.

"Murdering humans!" This shout came from one of V'nedro's Shas'vre, and his two bodyguards opened fire at the humans, felling one but the others easily avoided the blasts as they ran forward without pause, confusing the Tau soldiers as they were used to the un-augmented humans preferring to remain at range. V'nedro added his own firepower, but either his targeting sensors or his sense of direction had been knocked out of whack by his fall, and thus his barrage missed the enemy.

Fortunately for him, though, the Pathfinders and two remaining Stealth Suited individuals began to return fire as well, and they managed to bring down two more of the humans. The raised spirits this gave the Shas'o, though, were soon muted as he saw the first fallen human pull himself back up and fire off his weapon – _A Hellgun_, he recognized in a split second of clarity – and nailed one of the Pathfinders in the head, decapitating the hapless alien, who began to join the growing pile of dead Tau.

V'nedro realized that the battle was lost, and he called out on a wideband radio transmission to his entire force. "This is Shas'o V'nedro to all Tau units! Fall back!" He called out even as he retargeted the first fallen human, and much to his dismay confirmed that his suit was malfunctioning somehow as his target lock system reported a hard lock, yet his weapons missed. "Repeat, fall back!"

"-Annot hold- -Too many of- -The hills! They-" Came the disjointed reply from several voices, and V'nedro felt ice form in his belly as he realized that he'd been had. The ice turned to fire, however, as the enemy in front of him turned their weapons on his bodyguards, and as a whole team fired on his two Shas'vre, overwhelming the superior armor with massed gunfire. Screaming incoherently, he fired his weapons without first attempting a target lock, and the Tau was rewarded with a hit that assuredly killed at least one human, as that body no longer had a face.

Then the Shas'o's heart sank as from behind this fallen human another sprang, and this one led a new charge by the humans, screaming at the top of his lungs as he brandished a glowing blue weapon that crackled with energy and illuminated the leader's distinctive service cap.

_A power sword!_ V'nedro's mind raged as he turned to empty his next salvo towards the human leader, only to again be disappointed as both his flamer and missiles simply blasted to either side of the human, who continued to charge, unfazed.

V'nedro backed up, now very afraid as the human leader came close enough to swipe at him with the bladed power weapon. The Tau nearly tripped over a rock, and as he pirouetted to regain his balance, he caught a glimpse of his last Stealth troopers being cut in half by Melta Guns and the last pathfinder stabbed and slashed at with mildly long, simple, but deadly bladed weapons.

He took too long registering this, however, and V'nedro screamed in pain as he felt his right leg severed in mid-thigh by the power sword, which ignored completely the normally superb Iridium armor. The Shas'o fell down, onto his back, and he nearly blacked out from the pain and despair that washed over him. His suit, though, quickly cut off the affected area with a built-in tourniquet and applied drugs to deaden the pain and keep him conscious.

Soon enough, his addled attention was focused quite clearly, as the human leader stepped over him and held the tip of the glowing blue sword at the Tau's throat. "Don't move," he growled out, his eyes staring out from underneath a cap that marked him as a Commissar. Then, slowly, the human lened back a bit and without taking his eyes off of V'nedro, called out to one of his own. "Sergeant! How many did we loose?"

"Two sir," came a gruff voice. "Flowers and Wyoming, KIA. Everyone else is ready to roll."

"Excellent," the Commissar said, holstering his hellpistol as he did so. "Give me two of your men to watch this scum."

V'nedro heard the voices, and he understood them, as part of his training was to be able to communicate with the enemy, to at least offer them the chance of joining the Greater Good. Now, though, he was confused as a snap could be heard, and soon two men in full Stormtrooper outfits walked over and leveled not their own Hellguns, but captured Plasma Rifles at the Shas'o. _Humans aren't supposed to want to use our weapons_, the befuddled and pained Tau thought. _Nor do they take prisoners…_

Even as he thought this, however, V'nedro realized this was exactly what was happening, as the human Commissar stepped back and, with careful movements, used his power sword to cleave the XV8's weapons clean off of their mounts, followed soon by the slicing of the helmet's radio antenna. "There, now you cannot fight back," the human said, stepping back again to sheathe his sword. "Sergeant Namara, get on the horn and have a Valkyrie come out and pick us and our new prisoner up," he said, and then gave the Tau a hard look that made the alien shiver in his neutered suit, especially as the man's ice cold tone washed over him. "We have work to do."


	2. Iron Diehards

"Ready!" Sounded the booming voice, and the platoon all shuffled forward and either crouched or laid down at the edge of the small embankment they had taken cover behind. Ahead of them was a long, funnel-shaped pass through steep cliffs, and coming up it was their enemy.

"Aim!" The officer's voice bellowed again, and as one the fifty plus men aimed their weapons at the approaching horde. Several kneeled down and aimed their heavier support weapons high, while a few on crew-served weapons flipped off the arming interlocks.

Their leader, Lieutenant Frederick Dalinar, stared with steely eyes as the foul cultists of Chaos stormed up the gap, their ravening nature causing them to loose all coherence as they simply ran forward to sate their bloodlust. They did not concern him, but rather, it was the squad of heretical Space Marines following in their wake. _This is not going to be fun_, Dalinar thought before he spoke again. "Lasguns only… FIRE!"

A wave of coherent light spat out from half a hundred guns, almost every one finding their mark three hundred meters away. Two score of the cultists fell from the onslaught, yet almost twice as many remained alive and running.

"Frag launchers, fire!" Dalinar shouted as he gestured to his bodyguard detachment to prepare for combat. Around him, several launchers blasted out their deadly munitions, and the lobbed projectiles fell upon the heretics and blossomed into deadly flowers of flame, dirt, and blood. Yet still did the enemy come, and Dalinar stood up, along with his bodyguards. "All lasguns and special weapons, fire at will!" He commanded, even as he took aim at the approaching cultists with his bolt pistol at an armored champion leading the charge.

Before he could even fire, however, the lasguns of his guardsmen lit off again, their rapid-fire beams doing well against the unarmored foes. The two armored heretic marines leading the charge, however, seemed to laugh off the attacks as they closed to below a hundred meters and began to fire their plasma pistols at the guardsmen, while around them their retinue fired off their own laspistols.

Dalinar ignored that consequence now, trusting his men to do their duty even as he took aim and fired at the first of the traitor marines. His pistol rocked his whole arm back as it unleashed its blessed wrath, firing one of the combination bullet/rocket projectiles that were the lifeblood of the Imperium's most effective general use weapons.

The bolt flew straight and true, and the heretic, half laughing, half screaming in feral glee, took the explosive projectile in the face. Consequently, his head exploded a split second later, forever wiping the grin off his face while his now-lifeless hulk collapsed to the ground.

Screaming to his right brought the lieutenant's attention around, and he saw the other armored marine leaping into the air, jumping the last few meters towards the third squad's position as laser fire merely melted the skin of his armor. The chainsword in his hand roared to life, and it seemed he would claim the soul of a young grenadier who barely had time to look up at the approaching mass.

Then, three blasts of searing, blue-white flame soared past Dalinar by mere decimeters, their righteous energy singing some of the less durable fibers on his uniform sleeves. The three plasma bolts quickly slammed into the armored marine in mid-air, and the heretic was soon converted into a slag of burning carbon and melted metal. The heap landed just to the right of the saved grenadier thanks to the impact effect of the particle weapons, and the young man blinked a few times before he remembered to crouch down again to avoid being picked off.

Dalinar turned back to face forward then, unconcerned with the plasma having passed so close to his body. "Good shooting men," he said, glancing back to his detachment of veteran bodyguards before checking the line of his platoon. His trained eye soon showed that almost the entire platoon had come through the charge intact, having slaughtered the approaching enemy with massed fire before they could even close to close combat. _Well, almost_, the lieutenant told himself as he saw a few of his men dispatching one or two cultists who had managed to reach the squad on the far left flank.

Just then he heard objects whizzing past his head, and Dalinar dropped into a crouch even as he realized that the armored Chaos Space Marines were slowly moving towards his platoon, firing their bolters as they marched. The screams of men dying to his left and right sounded, but they were few and Dalinar whispered a quiet prayer that their souls would find rest free of the Ruinous Powers' taint. "Heavy weapons teams, fire! Fire at will!" He commanded, even as he signaled for his own bodyguards to aim and fire as well.

Just behind the platoon's front line, five pairs of men unlocked the last safeties and checked the ammo feeds for one last time before they fired. Two autocannons, a heavy bolter, a krak missile launcher and a fearsome lascannon unleashed their wave of deadly fire, and a cheer erupted from Dalinar's men as five of the deadly Chaos Marines exploded or were shorn apart by the deadly fire.

_Unfortunately, that leaves three-quarters alive_, the lieutenant mused grimly as the heretics fell back a bit. Dalinar wasn't so foolish as to think them forced back, however, so much as he knew that they were reconsolidating before they pushed again. _And I know what that means_.

Sure enough, the heretics did as Dalinar expected. Reforming up into a tight mass, they turned back and then started running towards the Imperial Guard position, screaming their bloodrage and firing their bolters with deadly effect.

"All men, fire at will!" Dalinar commanded, and his platoon promptly obeyed. Waves of coherent light pulses reached out from the guardsmens' lasguns, though they had their typical, poor effect on the heavily-armored foes. A few, however, managed to catch a weak point in the enemy's armor, and several of the fearsome soldiers collapsed as their internal organs exploded from being flash-boiled.

Grenades and plasma fire followed the first wave of light weapons fire, and they were followed by the heavy weapons crews opening up again. More Chaos Space Marines fell to the waves of destruction, yet just under half remained, their screams and bolter fire louder now as they raced forward, uncaring about their losses.

"Close combat teams, to the fore!" Dalinar called out, even as he stood and ran forward, his bolt pistol once again up and firing at an armored foe. The bolt missed this time, unfortunately, but the shot, plus his sudden charge towards him made the heretic slow in confusion. The moment was brief, however, and the traitor raised his weapon up and took aim at the lieutenant.

Once again, however, a wave of plasma fire soared past Dalinar, and his enemy was nearly vaporized by the searing bolts. The lieutenant, though, paid it little heed as he changed direction and headed to the flank of a chaos marine who was far too focused in on closing in to kill the guardsmen who were usually little effort to slay at close range.

Frederick's hands tightened on the grip of the weapon in his right arm, a fearsome power sword. He screamed in a rage of his own at that, and the enemy marine barely had time to register this and turn towards the sound before the vorpal weapon sliced though his armor with ease, neatly cleaving the heretic in twain.

Dalinar didn't even had time to think on his kill before a massive pain erupted in his side, and he went flying off to his right before coming to a landing on the ground just before his platoon's main line. The lieutenant lay there for a moment to get a hold of his pain, but the heretic who kicked him intended to give the man no such time, and the horned helm of the enemy appeared in Dalinar's vision just before the marine's tainted bolter did, it's aim clearly at the officer's head.

"Burn you heretic bastard!" A scream sounded from off to the side, and the enemy marine looked up just before a blazing stream of something that looked vaguely like flying lava slammed into the traitor marine's head and torso. Dalinar took that as his cue, and he rolled on the ground several times to clear himself of the melta gun's aftermath. He stood up as quick as he could then, fighting the pain in his side every second, but forcing himself into a crouch nonetheless.

"Are you okay sir?" A voice asked, and Dalinar turned to see three men approaching him, a sergeant and two guardsmen, one of whom holding a melta gun whose end still glowed slightly. The lieutenant merely nodded at the question, not trusting himself to filter the pain out of his voice just yet, and he looked up to check on his platoon.

At first glance, it looked bad. Bodies of guardsmen laid bleeding out all along the line, it seemed, and something burned off on the far left flank. As Dalinar studied the scene, however, he noted that, while some men had certainly died, the bulk of his platoon was still alive, and firing at the two heretics still standing and fighting. One of the traitor marines, however, was in a sorry, state, with his left arm cleaved off by a sergeant's chainsword, though the same sergeant's head was only then slipping off of the fist of the other hand which had caved the hapless guardsman's head in. The enemy wasn't getting away with it, however, and the remainder of that sergeant's squad was even then unloading lasgun volley after volley into the Chaos-befouled armor, wearing it down until finally they pierced the metal and scorched the flesh within.

The other marine, meanwhile, was faring little better, as the smoke from the left flank was coming from him as a flamer-carrying guardsman hounded the armored traitor by bathing him constantly in fire. The flamethrower man's fellows were using their own lasguns to add to the effect, and soon enough, that traitor too fell before the onslaught.

And then, the field suddenly became silent. Dalinar looked around, scanning his men before turning to peer down the gap they defended, seeing if anything else would come at them. The pass was empty, however, and Dalinar finally allowed himself to breath a quiet sigh of relief. Then he stood up and nodded to the four men near him. "Thank you for your help, men," he said, giving them a faint smirk before his stern officer's visage returning. "Now back in line, and see to the wounded."

"Yes sir," the sergeant replied, and he and his men turned and headed back to the line. Dalinar, meanwhile, walked over to where his bodyguards stood by the slagged remains of two Chaos Marines. Or rather, the two men who were left, as only one plasma gunner and the platoon's medic remained alive, their own charge following the lieutenant's drawing enemy attention beyond that which was visited upon other squads.

_Damnit_, Frederick thought as he slowly approached master sergeant Mathers, his remaining plasma gunner. _Graven and Tarnal gone… May He bless their afterlife_, the lieutenant thought as he came to a stop next to the corporal, and then turned to face forward, towards the gap. The sergeant mirrored him, and they both stood there for several moments, their weapons held at the ready, yet no enemy in sight. Behind them, Dalinar could hear corporal Franklin – his final bodyguard and specially-trained medic – organizing the few men who had some degree of training and/or aptitude in the area tend to the wounded.

After another few moments of the disheartening sounds of struggle behind them, Mathers finally spoke up. "You took quite a kick there, sir," he observed without looking at his lieutenant. "Maybe you should have Franklin look at you?"

"Later," Dalinar said, gritting his teeth some as the pain in his side pulsed briefly. "I'll live for now, others might not have that chance," he added, and then glanced over to his left. "Some never did."

"Aye," Mathers replied, and he glanced over as well. "Second squad's gonna need a new leader," he observed, taking note of the unit whose sergeant had taken a metal fist to the face.

"If that corporal Frarks is still alive, he gets a field promotion effective immediately," Dalinar said without hesitation. "If he's not, you take the squad until we get relieved."

"Yes sir," Mathers said, and he peered forward into the pass for a moment before he turned to face the lieutenant. "By your leave, sir, I'll go check up on them."

Dalinar nodded. "Take care of it," he said, and barely glanced at the senior noncom as the latter left to check on second squad. The gap in the cliffs kept his attention for some time then, as he watched for any movement from the sparsely vegetated mountain pass. Part of him wanted to desperately go back and help take care of his men, either medically or morally. However, he knew that the best thing his men needed at the moment was a symbol to rally behind, and an officer standing in indefatigable vigilance would let the men concentrate on their tasks more easily, knowing that someone was in control of the situation, that they could turn their backs and help their fellow man while their leader kept watch. _Or some crap like that_, Frederick darkly mused, remembering the officer training he received. _At the very least, it'll help calm the fear and let them concentrate without worrying… For now…_

A sharp whistling came from above then, startling Dalinar and the other guardsmen into looking up. Barely had they done so when a large, teardrop-shaped object dropped out of the sky to slam into the ground a hundred or so meters beyond their front line. Retrorockets that had burned to slow the object during its descent kicked up a large cloud of dust, and the view of the object was obscured.

Not that Dalinar feared it, since he now recognized the shape and landing profile of a Space Marine drop pod. "At ease, men," he called out to the platoon over his shoulder, and the lieutenant holstered his bolt pistol and sheathed the large power sword on his back to show them that there was no threat.

Of course, the full squad of eight marines and their sergeant storming out of the pod and dust, their bolters and heavy weapons held up and readied looked quite fearsome. Yet, Dalinar simply gave himself a mental shrug and he slowly walked forward towards them, holding his hands out at his sides. As he drew close and the dust settled, Frederick could easily make out to which chapter the marines belonged to just by looking at their armor color; the illustrious Ultramarines.

Their sergeant glanced around the pass briefly, absorbing what he saw before turning his attention to the man approaching him. Dalinar stopped a good meter and a half away before he brought up his right hand and casually waved it at the armored marines. "Hey there," he said, casually.

"Hello," the sergeant said, his unhelmeted head easily revealing his surprise at both the situation and Dalinar's behavior. "A scout unit said they saw a detachment of heretics coming up this pass, and we were to engage them," he said before pausing to glance around again.

"We took care of them," Frederick replied, again with nonchalance. "Though if you want to kill traitors, you can head down the pass, I'm sure there's more where out kills came from."

The sergeant narrowed his eyes at that. "Are you ordering us?" He asked quietly, yet his voice was rimmed with a hint of malice.

"Not at all, sergeant," Frederick replied friendlily, faintly smiling as he spoke. "Hell, if you want to, y'all can stay here and we can all have a nice friendly game of poker. I'd love to see if I could win that suit of armor off of you. I bet I'd look real snazzy in it."

A moment of pregnant silence fell across the area then as the two leaders faced each other. Then, the sergeant finally grunted and then turned, giving a hand signal to his fellow marines. "Perhaps another time," he answered the lieutenant neutrally, his voice neither angry nor amused. "We have many heretics to kill. Do us a favor and hold this pass without being killed," he added, and then the squad of armored marines turned and began to march off in the direction the heretics had come from, moving in efficient silence that was only punctuated with the faint whining of armor servos, and one faint muttering that Dalinar could barely hear: "Bloody Atlanteans."

Frederick smirked at that, and then turned and headed back to the center front of his platoon, where his two bodyguards now stood, apparently having finished their tasks. "Report," the lieutenant ordered as he came near.

"We lost ten men from across the platoon, and it looks like at least one more will leave us as his wounds are severe," corporal Franklin spoke first. "Another eight are wounded, with three of them being too severe to allow them back into combat, and the other five I would prefer not see fighting either, if at all possible."

"I'd prefer seeing none back in combat, if possible," Dalinar countered evenly. "But even so, we must do our duty."

"Yes sir," Franklin replied subserviently, and Dalinar turned to look at Mathers, who spoke up next. "Corporal Frarks was still alive, and he is now acting sergeant Frarks in charge of second squad. We're scrounging the power packs and rations from the deceased and I have three of the heavy weapons crews acting as body detail, moving them off to the side."

"Make them a burial detail, as well," Dalinar said, reaching up to rub his side. "Those Ultramarines will hold the heretics at bay for more than enough time to give our comrades a respectful final rest. Actually, belay that," Frederick added as a new thought entered his head. "Draw a man from each squad and have them share the burying duty. I don't want anyone to think they're being punished."

"Yes sir," Mathers replied. "Anything else, sir?"

"Yes," Dalinar said after a moment of thought, and he looked up and down the line. "Make sure you let the men know how proud I am that they held so well against a force that rightly should have killed us all. They should all be proud, in fact." _They'll need that pride to shield them from the horrors to come_, he added mentally, knowing that the Chaos invasion of Takara III was only just beginning. "There is no finer platoon in the regiment."

Mathers smirked briefly, but he nodded. "Yes sir. I'll be off then, if you will?"

"Go on," Dalinar answered, turning around to face down the gap again briefly. "The sooner you're done, the sooner we'll be ready for another wave."

"You think another one will come?" Corporal Franklin asked, somewhat surprised. "The Ultramarines are here now, aren't they?"

"When battling Chaos, expect anything and everything," Frederick replied. "Atlantis has learned that the hard way.

"For now, though, just keep to your duties, and leave me to worry about the enemy," the lieutenant added, and then sighed briefly. "We have a long way to go before victory is ours."


End file.
